A few cumulus clouds, puffy like a child’s drawing, are grey nearly violet in this predawn light with their undersides glowing like hot plates. At the edge of the horizon there are a few white-hot 500-watt clouds announcing the sun nearly ready to crest the hill. And... there it is at 5:33, that lucky old ball of fire blasting over the horizon; a sliver to round in less than a minute. All the pink is gone the sky is blue and the day is at hand.
6.22.2011
A few cumulus clouds, puffy like a child’s drawing, are grey nearly violet in this predawn light with their undersides glowing like hot plates. At the edge of the horizon there are a few white-hot 500-watt clouds announcing the sun nearly ready to crest the hill. And... there it is at 5:33, that lucky old ball of fire blasting over the horizon; a sliver to round in less than a minute. All the pink is gone the sky is blue and the day is at hand.
